


The Angel of Temperance

by onahunt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas drank a liquor store, Episode Tag, Episode: s05e17 99 Problems, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 21:55:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2404268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onahunt/pseuds/onahunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thousands of years of abstinence, and for what? Castiel's drunken musings during 99 Problems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Angel of Temperance

Thousands of years of abstinence, and for what?

For over two thousand years, Castiel had watched over mankind without interfering. Even when his brothers and sisters in the garrison had wanted to step in during Herod's reign, or the countless wars waged in the name of religion, or the suffering of humanity by famine and disease. Even then, Castiel was the voice of reason – of temperance.

Temperance.

He was known for that; self-control and abstinence.

Ha!

Castiel sat alone on the kerb outside the liquor store. One empty bottle of something that should have been Russian but was bottled in California lay at his side, the half-empty bottle in his hand claimed it was distilled in the Caribbean, that was something at least.

He could check abstinence off his list of “known for”s.

Drinking was a new experience. He'd seen others do it – angels, humans and demons all drank alcohol – but he'd never understood the compulsion. Until now.

In the last year or so he'd been on Earth he thought he'd gotten used to having a vessel and the strange feelings, emotional and physical, that came with that.

But this was new.

He felt a warmth inside his vessel that he'd not felt before. A warmth that seemed to partner fuzziness. A fuzziness that was skewing his depth perception and balance, it didn't seem to be doing much for his sorrows though, which was a disappointment.

He finished the bottle and tossed it over his head to the trash can behind him. He heard the crash of glass on glass, a thud and then the sound of the bottle rolling across the sidewalk to stop beside the other empty bottle.

Looking back, he could see the trash can full of empty bottles – oh that's right, he drank the liquor store.

The part of his brain not clouded by alcohol noted that the bottle must have fallen on the pile of broken down cardboard boxes in front of the trash before rolling onto the pavement which stopped it from smashing. This frustrated him.

He couldn't even smash a bottle properly. But why did he want to smash the bottle? He couldn't quite– oh, yes...

Sam Winchester.

Yes, Sam had left a rather lengthy message. Too long. Too long for Castiel who had had to listen to Sam's irritating voice. It grated, it really did. He knew it was an irrational reaction to the younger Winchester contacting him... but he was inebriated and his self-control was waning.

Self-control, that was another thing he wouldn't be “known for” in the future.

It had started when Castiel was made captain of the garrison. It was the first time in two thousand years they had received new orders from God – save Dean Winchester from Hell.

His first act of interference was an order. An order which brought Castiel up close and extremely personal with humanity.

Battling through the layers of Hell to get Dean out was hard, it was the first time the garrison had done anything other than watch the battles on Earth, but they succeeded.

His brothers and sisters returned to their posts while he stayed to piece Dean's soul back together, bit by broken bit. He hadn't meant to leave a mark but he couldn't help but touch the Righteous Man – he had looked at Dean's soul, really looked and was fascinated.

All it took was that new perspective and he was lost. Lost to humanity and lost to Dean.

He knew then that not interfering was no longer an option. He just couldn't help himself. Not now he had a taste of the action, he couldn't just sit back and watch humanity suffer.

Grunting, Castiel staggered to his feet. He should probably answer Sam's call and he wanted more alcohol. The Winchesters were bound to have beer.

With a louder than usual flutter of wings, he was gone.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Playing on the comment from Castiel in the episode about Sam, Castiel's views are not this Author's!


End file.
